Welcome Home, Brother.

You're awake.

"Huh, am I asleep?" Guilliman, lying in the culture tank, looked completely bewildered.

He seemed to remember being on the Operating Table before, and when he turned his head, he saw a large hole in his body, and Mordred was scratching his stomach like a mad dog.

"Yeah, you actually lied to me. There aren't any Yellow Skins doing pole dancing outside. And what happened to Mortarion?"

To be fair, Guilliman is quite capable. The first thing he did after waking up wasn't to check on himself, but to question Mordred about lying to him, and even showed concern for Mortarion. Seriously, I'm so moved!

"Don't worry, Second Brother have I ever made a mistake? Mortarion is fine, but you were unconscious for seven days and were extremely depleted, so I put you in this pool to help you recover."

He hadn't felt anything before, but after Mordred's reminder, Guilliman felt a wave of weakness, just like after staying up all night playing games, waking up to attend a long class, and then being invited out by his best buddies—he felt exhausted and weak.

Shaking off the culture medium, Mordred hastily put on a couple of pieces of clothing. Before Guilliman could ask any questions, Mordred explained, "This is normal. In other words, you can achieve secondary compatibility with Mortarion without causing further damage. The price is that you've become that Ewe's Womb."

"So you mean that during the time Mortarion was half-dead, I had to provide him with all the nutrients he needed, which is why I was constantly eating and sleeping, so lazy and tired, and never getting enough sleep."

Their eyes met, and Mordred shook his head at Guilliman's rather stubborn Little Blondie, indicating that there was part of the reason, but ultimately it was because you were lazy.

"If you want to slack off, just say so. There's no need to come up with some high-sounding excuse. We're all here; you don't need to shoulder the burden alone."

Upon hearing this, Guilliman gave a rather awkward, forced laugh, "I'm just tired of working so hard."

"If you don't tell us, how will we know? That's why everyone calls you Ambition. But don't worry, we have plenty of manpower now, so you can relax a bit."

"Then can I join the Indomitable Expedition?"

-"

"There's no need for that. You can make a greater contribution by staying in the rear. After all, we have different roles. Look at your Second Brother, I've always been in logistics, and I've even served as Warmaster."

Even if you don't care about us, you should at least think about your own Glory Guard.

He casually handed Guilliman two cases of Tau Commander Canned One, telling the guy to stop thinking about all that nonsense and just stick to being a proper government Servitor. "If you run away, we'll be exhausted."

While enjoying the delicious Canned One, Guilliman followed Mordred deeper into the laboratory. After passing through layers of security checks, Guilliman arrived at a liminal space between the real world and the Warp.

This is where the Primarch was truly born.

Looking at the twisted blobs of flesh that could hardly be called human, floating up and down in the Incubation Pod, Guilliman suddenly felt that he shouldn't have come along, and even somewhat understood why his biological mother Eldar, had abandoned them.

"Is this Mortarion?"

"Yes! To be precise, it's the Mortarion that hasn't fully taken its current form yet. Primarchs all started out looking like this—an Ultimate Being created from Warp minor god fragment, through Biochemical Alchemy."

"Hmm, I understand. I get the logic, but why does the Mortarion look shrunken? And what are those little gadgets next to it?"

As an alien who always answers questions, Mordred certainly wouldn't miss this opportunity to teach others. He immediately gestured for Guilliman to come closer and pulled over a data panel for him to see. "This is my latest discovery. The essence of Mortarion is not in the past, but in the future. This thing called Mortarion will only be born after he dies."

Is that a little hard to understand? That's normal; that's the essence of Warp. Because of the uncertainty of time, the future is not necessarily the future, and the past is not necessarily the past; they can influence each other.

In terms you can understand, Mortarion is transforming into a butterfly, and to become a butterfly, he must first dissolve himself and descend into the world in a new form.

So when Mortarion is resurrected, he won't be the big Mortarion you remember, but a small, young one. That's why we have to interrupt the ritual, because only in this way can he retain his original mindset.

As for these little trinkets...

Mordred picked up a phantom ball of light, poured some of the life essence generously offered by his Daemon brethren onto it, and the ball of light transformed into a miniature Death Guard, leaving Guilliman completely bewildered.

"Is this Death Guard?"

"That's right, I collected their souls and brought them back to life through the power of Mortarion, but they are not Atlas, and their soul strength is simply not enough."

So they're a bit dim-witted now, with an IQ similar to Hajimi, but with proper training, they can be restored to their former selves. I call them "little Gretchin."

"Ah! What a nice name."

Although Mordred had explained it very clearly, Guilliman still didn't understand why people would turn into moths and Death Guard would turn into so-called little Gretchin. However, he did understand one thing: the current Mortarion was still in its unformed state.

"Second Brother, since Mortarion is still undetermined, could we—"

"Hmm? You know what, Little Mo is indeed a bit sloppy. He doesn't pay much attention to hygiene and always gives off a nasty smell. Why don't we give him a try?"

"Let's give it a try."

As an RPG enthusiast, Guilliman's aesthetic sense is on point, and when combined with Mordred, a walking saw-man, he immediately recreated Mortarion's initial model.

"Wings are a must; they're a symbol of sophistication, giving off a death gothic vibe."

"That makes sense. Sanguinius has wings, so we brothers should get them too. But that would disrupt our daily lives, so let's make a pluggable one."

"His physique needs to be changed too. Mortarion is too skinny; he looks like a ghost when he stands there. He needs to be at least a bit more muscular."

"Sure, that's easy. While we're at it, let's get rid of that rotten, bone-deep stench of Mortarion and give it a lemon scent?"

"Design another battle form. His previous transformation was really cool, it fits perfectly."

With these two good brothers, Mortarion is truly blessed in this life. Fortunately, they didn't turn him into Mortalian; they only gave him a minor beautification.

If the original Mortarion's graphics were 720p, giving off a melancholic, old farmer vibe, then the meticulously crafted models by the two developers are 40k resolution. Can boys be this beautiful? Of course they can!

As the model was input, the twisted mass of flesh began to change rapidly, with a large number of special organs unique to the Primarch generating one by one, eventually growing completely new skin.

Especially her thick, silver hair floating up and down in the Incubation Pod, which was enough to make Horus envious to the point of tears.

And just as Mordred said, the reborn Mortarion was no longer that big guy, but a tiny little guy who was only a little over a meter tall.

This isn't Mordred taking kickbacks; it's because he's removed a lot of impurities. But in essence, he's no different from the former Mortarion, just looking small. He'll grow into a big guy after a few years of heavy eating.

After all, the Physical World is ultimately governed by science. Although the Primarch may seem fantastical, it still needs a physical body as its foundation.

Although the materials for creating Primarchs are extremely rare, the Empire is, after all, an interstellar empire, so procuring some materials is not difficult; the key is that it is unnecessary.

Since the remains of Mortarion are there, there's no need to prepare something new. The original is always better than a substitute; he's not Sisyphus.

As for what will happen to the Death Guard when it sees Mortarion now, that's not covered by Mordred's after-sales service.

Hilarious! Death Guard need to play a resurrection match to recover. Their current intelligence is less than a cat's. By the time they recover, Mortarion will be all grown up.

Following some inexplicable call, the newly born Mortarion's eyelids trembled slightly; he seemed to be having a very long dream.

I dreamt that I swam in some strange ocean for ten thousand years, and the more I struggled, the deeper I sank, eventually falling into an abyss and turning into a maggot in a sea of excrement.

Open your eyes, I'm your father!

"Shut up, Guilliman, you bastard, are you trying to take advantage of me?"

"Open your eyes, I'm your real father! That was a fake."

A word that made Mortarion uneasy came to mind. If it were an ordinary person, they might think of a majestic figure, but he could only associate it with something inhuman.

Whether it's the Nakhre, the Emperor, or even Nurgle, who calls himself Nurgle, they're all the same kind of Tyrant who are just using him.

If he could choose again, he wouldn't want to be the Primarch; he just wanted to be an ordinary farmer, growing Corn and raising a few chickens.

"I'm tired, let's destroy it!"

Mortarion was resisting; if he continued like this, the souls that had just been glued together would likely shatter again.

Fortunately, this kind of melodramatic soap opera plot wouldn't happen to their good buddy. Seeing that this guy dared to slack off, Mordred and Guilliman exchanged a glance, and each kicked the unlucky fellow.

"Trying to play dead? You're not getting one."

Two gigantic giants, each nearly four meters tall, were relentlessly beating a tiny little guy just over a meter tall, while a Gretchin transformed from the Death Guard was cheering them on. It all seemed so abstract.

But the Primarch of Primarch falls for this. His inner turmoil is just because he's bored; give him a couple of punches and he'll forget all about it.

"Stop hitting me! Stop hitting me! I'm awake!"

Upon hearing this, the two immediately changed their tune, hurriedly helping up Mortarion, who had been beaten bloody from the head. Guilliman even went so far as to offer words of comfort, completely forgetting that he was the one who had just beaten Mortalian the most.

Mortarion was stunned as he looked at Guilliman, who was reaching out his hand to him, and Mordred, who stood beside him with blood on his hands but a simple smile on his face.

Welcome home, brother!